


Scars

by EssayOfThoughts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Post-War, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:14:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: They all bear scars in the wake of the war. So they come out as scarred as any other, though some are half the age.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheDarkestStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkestStar/gifts).



> Written for V/TheDarkestStar as a Christmas present. I hope you like it, V!

They all bear scars in the wake of the war. This is to be expected, really. You don't send teenagers into battle if you can help it and you certainly don't send them against adults in an all out firefight.

But in war, you can't help it. In a war, it spills over the battlefields and into the streets. In a war, everyone becomes a target. When what you face are people who'll torture and kill whole families, grandparents down to wailing grandchildren, to tell the children not to fight back,  _not_ to try to defend themselves is stupid. 

So they come out as scarred as any other, though some are half the age.

 

* * *

 

Harry hates quills. There are several reasons from this, from how troublesome they are to write with, to how refillable fountain pens are cheaper and easier, to  _fucking_ _Umbridge_ and her thrice-damned blood quill.

Some days, he rubs the scars on his knuckles and is very glad that magic doesn't impede biros.

 

* * *

 

Luna floats downstairs, some nights, and sits outside. It's not nightmares that make her do this; after all, she's been able to lucid dream since she was seven years old. She's not had a nightmare she can't escape from in years.

Its simply that, outside, she can see the stars.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, Draco goes downstairs to the basement, to the cells, and sends hex after hex at the walls until they darken as though covered in soot, spell-residue coating every inch. He knows the house elves will clean it off in a moment, but that's not the point.

The  _point_ is: he's seen war now, and it's not what his father had promised. he's seen the supposed enemy and it's not some insidious creature but the old man who'd made and sold his wand and a girl from the year below.  _People,_ harmless and ordinary, and held in this very cell.

Draco is quite determined that it will never happen again.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!


End file.
